Cold Child
by DA4TheFunOfIt
Summary: It's the 1500's. England is in a meeting with a young Russia, when the boy makes a very odd  and very creepy  request. Based on a real historical occurrence.


"As I have told you many times before: No," England stood unyielding to the other party's negotiating. "The Queen is not interested in forming a military alliance with you at this time."

"Are you sure?" England's visiting nation asked from the other side of the table with his ever-present smile. "We _are_ friends, da? It would be nice if we could become closer. That is what friends do, da?"

England took a breath to calm himself. How much longer was this meeting going to go on? He was not sure if he could take his guest's bothersome persistence any longer.

England was in a diplomatic conference with a nation from Eastern Europe that had been growing considerably in power recently. England had been trading with the nation for a while now. The commerce between England and him had been going rather well—considering that the emerging nation was nothing more than a boy. His name was Russia. He looked to be about the age of ten years; twelve at the most. England had not known the child for very long, but he already knew that he did not particularly care for him.

Of hand, England could not come up with a good reason for his dislike of Russia. The Slavic nation did not appear threatening. He seemed to be a very pleasant and well-behaved boy. He had an innocent face and was always cheerful…almost _too_ cheerful.

Something was off about Russia. England could not put his finger on it, but whatever it was, it made him very uncomfortable. His instincts told him to be weary of the boy. England was a man who trusted his instincts.

Still, what Russia offered England in trade was profitable, so England was expected stay on good terms with him—even if the boy's behavior was borderline stalker-ish at times. Russia seemed to consider England his favorite foreign business partner. He kept trying to get closer and closer to England. Recently, he had begun pestering England with the offer of an English-Russian military alliance. That was where England drew the line. There was only so much of Russia that England could take. Besides, he had heard descriptions of the lifestyles of the native Russians from his English merchants. The boy _appeared_ civil enough, but much of what his people did sounded purely barbaric. England wanted to be careful of with whom he alined himself.

"My answer is final," England tried to be polite, but firm. "I am sorry. We appreciate our relationship with you as a trading partner, but for the moment, we have no desire to become anything more than that."

"Ah," Russia sighed. "That is too bad."

England's heart rose with hope. Was the boy finally giving up?

"In that case, Sir England, may I ask you a question?" the boy spoke again. His smile was still unwavering.

"Of course."

"Would there happen to be an English princess that you could recommend as a suitable bride for my master?"

England paused. What kind of a question was that? The conversation had suddenly taken a very unusual turn. England was struggling to come up with an answer, when he abruptly remembered something important about Russia's boss.

"Isn't your leader already married?"

England was not prepared for Russia's answer. The little boy's smile broadened into the most care-free smile England had ever seen. It was as if Russia thought England's concern over a vital point was nothing at all to worry about.

"Oh yes, but that is not problem. We can dispense with that easily."

England was stunned by how easily (and _strangely_) the boy had answered the question. "We can dispense with that easily?" What did the child mean by that? Surly he did not mean… England seriously searched the boy's face for any sign that he might be joking. Russia sat unmoving; patiently awaiting England's answer. The boy was smiling sweetly at England the same way he always did. England paled when he realized that Russia was not joking. He began to feel tremendously unnerved by the boy's calm behavior. England was no stranger to cruelty. He had been both the victim of it, and the giver of it in the past. Still, he could not understand how a boy this age could be so flippant when saying something like that!

England must have looked really upset, because Russia's smile lessened slightly, and his brow wrinkled in confusion. The young child looked down at himself. When he didn't see anything out of the ordinary, he then glanced all around him as if he was looking for what had frightened his host.

"Is something wrong, Sir England?" Russia finally asked.

"Er…no…I hope not," England stammered.

Russia smile returned to normal.

"That is good. Now, about a princess—"

"Yes, forgive me," England quickly cut Russia off. "Your request is…interesting," (outrageous was more like it!) "Unfortunately, there is no one available at this time."

_And there never will be!_

England resolved to himself.

"Oh," Russia simply said before giving another sigh of disappointment at England's answer. The young nation lowered his head for a moment. His face still held a smile, but now it was more of a sad smile. "What a shame," he said quietly to himself. "My master will not be pleased with this."

That was something else England found strange about Russia: he always referred to his boss as his "master." England had a very good relationship with his current queen. He had not always had pleasant rulers, but he had never been forced to call any of his bosses _master_. What kind of a man was Russia's boss? England had heard a few rumors about him, but they were too horrifying to be true…weren't they?

All of a sudden, Russia hopped out of his seat. He smiled happily up at England. He seemed to had perked himself up.

"Thank you very much for your time, Sir England," he gave a slight bow. "I enjoyed our meeting, but I must be going. My master does not like it when I am late returning home. We will talk again soon, da?"

England stood as Russia turned to leave.

"It is rather cold out, today," England commented as he followed after him. (In fact, it had been unusually chilly ever since Russia had arrived) "Are you quite alright in those clothes?" England was glad to be rid of the boy, but he tried to be considerate to his important guest up to the very end.

Russia's attire (or lack there of) was light for the weather. Not only that, but his clothes also appeared old and torn in places. The only thing he had to really keep him warm was a scarf. Russia had once been a very poor and ununited land, but with its recent growth in power, England figured that Russia's czar could at least find the deprived boy some better clothes.

"Da!" came the boy's cheerful reply. "It is actually nice and warm here, compared to my home."

Before long, England had turned Russia over to some of his guards to escort him the rest of the way out. The two bid their last goodbyes before the boy left. England walked to a widow where he could observe Russia once he exited the castle.

_Odd child._

England thought with an uneasy feeling. He would feel much better once Russia was off his castle grounds. It was not long at all before Russia came into view. He strolled out towards the castle gate with two guards by his side. Almost as soon as Russia had stepped outside, a blast of wind greeted him and the soldiers. England could see his men shiver, but Russia seemed unaffected by the chill. His scarf danced in the wind as it whipped around him.

Suddenly, England noticed something unnatural. The wind seemed to swirl relentlessly around Russia…almost as if it was _attracted_ to him. However, the truly strange thing was that the wind was slowly beginning to look almost solid. England could actually _see_ the wind. What's more, it was taking on a form. The cold presence grew and engulfed the small boy. The men beside Russia shivered every time the figure brushed against them, but they didn't seem to notice other-worldly spirit.

Despite the slight chill in England's own castle, England could feel himself starting to sweat, nervously. He realized that this thing was one of those creatures that only his trained eyes could see. He had the same feeling that came to him whenever he was near a magical creature, except it was not the _good_ feeling that he had when he was with his fairy friends. No, this was the _ominous_ feeling that came to him when he encountered a special being that was not at _all_ friendly.

Whatever the monster was, it seemed quite attached to Russia.

When Russia came to the gate, he stopped. He turned and scanned the area as if he could feel that someone was watching him. His eyes wandered up to the window England was using. He smiled and waved at England. The large thing hovering around Russia glanced up at England as well. Its eyes were like ice; cold, hard, and dead. Its grip was hard on the un-knowing, Russian child.

England slowly backed away from the window.

_Just what_ is _that boy?_

* * *

Author's note: Did I ever mention that Russia creeps me out! I mean, I feel sorry for him an all, but he's still super scary. His history has got to be the bloodiest history in the whole world! I know he's not right in the head, and that probably had something to do with it, but I think that if anyone contributed to his insanity, it was Ivan the Terrible.

This is based off of an actual event! Back in the 1500's, when Ivan the Terrible was building up Russia as a stronger nation, Russia and England had a lot of trade going between eachother. Ivan wanted to form an alliance with England, but Queen Elizabeth did not quite trust him. When Ivan kept getting turned down, he asked his diplomats to ask the English diplomats for the hand in marriage of an English princess. Ivan was already married to his 7th wife at the time. When questioned about the czar's relationship statice, the Russian diplomats replied that his marriage issue could be despensed with easily. Of course, nothing ever came of that. The fact was that Ivan only married for political gain. If he needed a new wife to up his power, he would get rid of whoever he was currently married to. I would really like to do more fics with Russia and his crazy czar, Ivan the Terrible.

I thought this would make a good background story for England and Russia. Maybe this is one of the reasons why England is so scared of Russia? Oh, and the evil spirit around Russia at the end is General Winter, of course.

This story and others can also be found on my Deviantart account (4TheFunOfIt) if anyone is interested.


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